


skimming

by GrotesqueEnchantment



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bookstore!AU, Child Abuse, Credence just needs love okay please, Fluff, M/M, Mention of Child Abuse, Mention of Physical Abuse, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 00:09:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8918902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrotesqueEnchantment/pseuds/GrotesqueEnchantment
Summary: Percival Graves, Credence learns, is the owner of the bookstore.





	1. Chapter 1

The music lulls him; a gentle caress against freezing skin. He rubs his hands together when he’s inside the warm building, encouraging blood flow to return to his digits. He rubs at his arms after, warming himself up before venturing further into the shop. The woman behind the counter eyes him suspiciously before noticing his lack of appropriate winter wear. He feels her watching him, knows her eyes contain some sort annoyance.

He knows that she knows he doesn’t have any money for the pages bound by leather and string. He knows that she judges him silently, shaking her head before she turns to another customer. He knows that she’s seen a hundred, maybe a thousand, like him. Maybe they don’t have a home to return to. Maybe they do, like him, but it is far better to be _away_ from it. He wonders if she wonders the same things before pretending to be busy.

His fingers skim over hard spines, bumping against a book out _just_ enough. He grabs that one, pulls it from the shelf before flipping it open to a random page. The smell of dust and age hits his nostrils and a smile attempts to break across his face. He crushes the smile before it can pull at his face. Who knows who is watching? He’s sure his mother would find out about it and punish him like always.

He panics briefly at the thought. She’d punish him if he saw. Punish him for even picking up a book. He flops the book in his hands, flips it to read the title:

_Lolita_

He pushes the book back onto the shelf, rougher then he ought to have. She may not punish him for the smile but he _knows_ she’d punish him for holding a book, even worse for one such a blasphemous as this. He rushes away from that shelf, moves towards a section that is safer.

The word says _Religion_ like a brand on the sign. He’s safer over here, he thinks. If anyone were to see him and tell his mother, at least he were looking into something holy. Maybe she’d even give him praise for that. Sickness rushes through him at the thought. He doesn’t need her praise, nor does he want it.

“The bible is the most stolen book throughout the world, did you know?”

A voice rings out over the sound of the music and Credence can’t help but jump slightly at the sound. The owner of the voice waits for an answer from Credence. He uses the time to raise his eyes to take in the appearance of the other person.

The man stands leaned up against a bookshelf. He wears a nice, white shirt underneath a black vest. His tie is a striking blue color that makes Credence eyes hurt from the brightness of it. He wears black trousers, allowing for the outfit to remain professional yet relaxed. However, Credence can tell the man is anything but relaxed most of the day. His hair has streaks of grey at the temples, topped by black hair that is gelled back. He looks stylish and Credence can’t help but be embarrassed at his own state of dress.  

Credence shakes his head to answer the man but doesn’t raise his head up. The man steps away from the bookshelf, comes closer to Credence. He holds something out to Credence.

“Very cold at this time of year.”

The smell of chocolate wafts its way into Credence’s nose. A white styrofoam cups comes into his vision. It’s only then that Credence looks up properly. Soft brown eyes greet his own, almost lighting up at Credence’s gaze.

“Why don’t you have some, hm?”

Credence begins to shake his head. _No no he could not impose like that_ …

“When it gets this cold, Tina insists we let people have hot chocolate.”

Credence tentatively reaches for the cup. It squeaks against his grip when his hand wraps around it. He murmurs a ‘thank you’ before taking a sip.

Ma _never_ lets them have something so decadent. He can’t help the small moan that bubbles out of his throat when the chocolate washes down into his stomach. He blushes, averts his gaze away from the stranger. But the man only laughs, warm and deep.

“Queenie always makes the best hot chocolate, my boy, no need to be ashamed.”

Again with the strange names that Credence doesn’t know. But it doesn’t matter. His lips pull into a small smile against his will. He returns his gaze to the handsome stranger once more. The man smiles back at him.

“Finding anything good…?” The man asks, more so wondering about what to call Credence. Credence takes another hurried sip from the chocolate. He sighs out his pleasure, licks his lips of any chocolate residue before answering the man.

“I’m Credence, sir. Credence Barebone.”

“Well, Credence, why don’t I show you some of our new books?” The man says, begins walking away from Credence. Credence debates turning around, walking out to the street again and making his way home.

But he doesn’t.

He trails behind the man, looking around the bookstore now that his blood sings with warmth. It’s much bigger then Credence first perceived. Books line every wall that Credence can see. He’s only taken out of his thoughts when the stranger says something to him again.

“Ah,” The man exclaims before picking up a book. “This is the popular one these days.” He waits for Credence to extend his free hand before placing the book into his palm. It’s not too heavy, a few hundred pages at best. He takes the chocolate from Credence’s other hand, ignoring the whimper of protest from the young man. “I’ll get you some more.” He motions for Credence to flip through the book. “Take a look.”

The kind man walks away, disappears behind a bookshelf before Credence looks at the cover. There’s an illustration of a boy on a book flying through an archway. His arm is outreached, attempting to catch some sort of golden ball. The title reads ‘ _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone’._ He doesn’t need to read through the book to know that Ma would have his hide if she saw him with something like this. He moves to put it back down when a voice rings out to him again.

“What do you think?” The rumbling baritone voice greets him again and Credence pushes the book into his chest. He can’t put it down now, can’t seem ungrateful for the man’s kindness. The man has two styrofoam cups this time. He passes one to Credence before taking a sip from his own.

“I-It seems very interesting, sir.” Credence practically whispers. But the man doesn’t seem to mind. Instead he smiles against the cup. Credence watches as his throat works to swallow the liquid. He feels his face heat up once again before he pointedly makes eye contact with the floor. _He can’t think those things. She’ll know._

“I’m glad you like it,” The man says before placing his empty cup on a nearby shelf. “Why don’t you take that home? Give it a bit of a read?”

Credence looks up once again, surprise evident in his features. He’s about to place the book back down onto the shelf, insist he couldn’t do something like that before the man pushes a finger into the back of the book. He makes sure that Credence can’t put down the book this way.

“It’ll be a Christmas present,” The man begins. “You just have to tell me about it when you come back. How about that?”

Credence swallows down any protests. He nods his head, grips the book tighter against his chest. The man’s finger leaves the back of the book and he smiles once more. Credence moves pass him. He needs to get home soon or his mother will punish him. He stops, turns to face the man once more.

“Thank you, Mister uh…” Credence trails off. The man extends a hand towards Credence.

“Graves. Percival Graves.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to write smut so bad but I am a sucker for fluff and a happy Credence. Please I just want him to be happy.
> 
> Un-Beat'd. I wrote this in like an hour. I hope you enjoy! I'm also working on part 2 as we speak. It'll probably only be two parts.
> 
> [Come chat with me on tumblr!](https://tmblrsnogoodverybadship.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

Percival Graves, Credence learns, is the owner of the bookstore.

He opens the store at 9 a.m Monday through Saturday. He takes Sundays off because ‘ _we all need a break sometimes, my boy_ ’. He closes the store every day at 10 p.m. Credence stays at the store until 8 p.m. He tries to stay as late as possible, even braving some of Ma’s lashings when Graves has a particularly interesting story to tell Credence.

Credence had returned to the store, like he promised. Graves gave him more hot chocolate, encouraged Credence to sit down in the resting area they had. He sat across from him, allowing the silence to wash over them. They had both sipped from their chocolate before Credence hesitantly told him that he enjoyed the book. Graves encouraged him to continue, asked what the book was about. Tentative whispers turned to full blown conversation quickly after. Graves told him that he was a wonderful storyteller and Credence couldn’t help the flush across his cheeks.

Graves had taken the book back from him then. When the book left his grasp, Credence couldn’t help the small whimper that left him. This book granted him an escape from the reality of his home, if only for a moment and if only in places that weren’t his home. He didn’t dare bring it to the church, knew that his mother would find it. He stashed it in different alleyways, wrapping it in one of his shirts so that it wouldn’t get damaged.

Graves told him to not look so down then. He promised him another book that he could read. He’d taken him through the store again. Graves let Credence pick out the second book. It was another sort of magical adventure, Graves had told him. He’d enjoy this one too. But he could only borrow it, of course, if he would return and tell Mister Graves about it again. Credence had nodded happily, clutching the new book to his chest.

He devoured through three more books after that. And here he was now, standing by himself in front of a bookshelf. He run his fingers along the spines of the books, feeling the titles. None of them called to him in the way that the magical books had. But he was an adult. He shouldn’t be reading books that were technically for _kids._

So he stands, dumbfounded, in front of the non-Fiction section. Every book was about someone either on the verge of death or dead. None of them captured his attention in the way he wanted. And all of them were extremely _thick_. He’d pick one up to find that it had over _600 pages_ of small text. He huffed before shutting the book and gently placing it back on the shelf.

“Find anything good today, Credence?” A sweet voice pulls him from his thoughts. He turns to face the person. Tina stands beside him, a stack of books piled within her arms. She places them gently on the ground before taking one off the top of the stack.

“Non-Fiction doesn’t seem very interesting.” He mumbles and she laughs. She places the book in her hand on the shelf before reaching down for another.

“It can be sometimes.” She says while placing the second book into the shelf. She reaches down to pick up the pile again and grunts softly when it’s all in her arms. “You just have to find the right topic.”

He’d read on Mister Graves if he could. A man like him had to have an interesting story. A nice family, Credence thinks. He’d read as fast as he could, if the other man were a book. He’d want to know Mister Graves inside and out.

“Uhm, Ms. Goldstein?”

“You can call me Tina, Credence.” She tells him with a smile. Credence clears his throat.

“Uhm, Ms. Tina, where is Mister Graves?” His voice cracks on Graves’ name, suddenly embarrassed by the question. But Tina doesn’t mention anything. Instead, she shrugs.

“He told me he’d be in later,” She begins, shuffles the books in her arms. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” He doesn’t mean to hunch his shoulders but he does.

“Why don’t you pick one of those biographies?” Tina says, trying to cheer Credence up. “I’m sure Mister Graves would like to know more about them.” Credence agrees with her suggestion, if not a bit disappointed. He really didn’t _want_ to read about these people. But she did have a point. Mister Graves _would_ like to know more and Credence could embellish a bit.

That’d be fun.

Tina leaves him to decide what book he’s going to dive into. He picks one that has a beautiful woman on the front. She has beautiful dark skin and black hair that clings to her head. It’s clearly been styled that way. She wears heavy earrings and a stern expression. He traces the title with his fingers:

_Josephine: The Hungry Heart_

Credence decides, halfway through the book, that he doesn’t need to embellish on Josephine Baker’s life. A beautiful woman who became a jazz icon throughout the 1920s. Also the first African-American woman to star in a major motion picture. On top of being an entertainer, she also aided the French Resistance during World War II. He wondered what kind of stories she would’ve been able to tell.

When he finally looks away from the book, Credence’s heart drops. The windows outside of the bookstore are full of inky-blackness. He stands up and places the book onto the chair before rushing up to the cashier counter. Tina is wiping down the counter tops with a rag, humming to herself.

“What time is it?” He asks her but his voiced is rushed. She looks up and gives him a smile before she notices his expression. The smile falls, concern growing in her eyes.

“It’s, uh,” She begins, looking down at her wrist to check the time. “9:45.”

Credence doesn’t let her say anything else before he rushes out the front doors. They whoosh with the force of his push. Credence hears Tina shout after him, voice filled with concern. In the back of his mind he wonders if Tina will come back after him. But the thought gets little attention with the time pulsing in his mind. He counts to sixty, restarting when he reaches the number. He counts to sixty fifteen times before he stops in front of the church.

10 o’clock.

He straightens out his shirt, hunches his shoulders and focuses heavily on the ground. He knows she’ll be waiting for him. He takes a slow step forward, followed by another before he stands in front of the church doors. He knocks softly before the door opens slightly. A pair of eyes greet him but they are not happy. Modesty says nothing to him when she opens the door. Just opens it enough for him to walk in before wordlessly shuts it behind him.

Credence doesn’t go to the bookstore the next day or the following.

Walking stretches the wounds on his back, allowing pain to ripple down his spine. He keeps his hands tucked into his pockets when he’s not around his Mother. The cold air stings at the wounds there too. His mother everything in her power to make him use his hands. _Carry this_. _Sew this_. _Give them food, Credence_.

The crisscross wounds on his hand are a brand to the other children. They never mention them to him but they know. It’s only after three days does his mother finally let him go on his own again. She tells him to be home by five. She says it to him with intent in her eyes and Credence knows not to disobey.

He makes his way to the bookstore at noon. But the name of the shop, _MACUSA,_ does not bring a smile to his face like it used to. Instead, he hears the cracking of his belt against his skin. He contemplates turning around. Maybe he could go somewhere else for today. But he’s stop when a hand comes grips his shoulder.

“Credence.” The baritone voice is filled with warmth. Tears sting Credence’s eyes before he wills them away. He doesn’t turn to face the man, instead walks forward and into the shop. Graves follows him into the shop, tries to grab the inside door to open it for Credence. He lets him, doesn’t want Graves to see his wounded hands. He mumbles a ‘thank you’ under his breath.

Tina eyes him when he walks into the shop but otherwise says nothing. He wonders how much she knows. Or what she suspects. But he’s grateful for the silence. Graves moves away from Credence then, goes to talk about something with Tina. They talk in rushed whispers as Credence walks numbly to an aisle.

_Religion_

His eyes scan every book in the aisle. Much of which contain the word ‘ _hope’_ in the title. He scoffs under his breath every time he sees it. When his eyes reach one book, he can’t help but reach out and run his fingers along the binding.

The Bibles golden title hurts. The tears prick at his eyes again, threaten to spill down his cheeks. He brings his hands up to rub at his eyes, winces when the salty tears make contact with his wounds. Maybe if he could just _be_ the son that she wanted. Maybe then she’d stop. Maybe then she’d ac-

The smell of hot chocolate takes him away from his thoughts. He looks away from the Bible to see a woman he doesn’t recognize. She has short blonde hair and a friendly smile. She wears a beautiful pink coat and matching dress. She walks slowly towards Credence before extending her hand towards him. Her hand contains the hot chocolate that pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Teenie told me you liked my hot chocolate.” The woman says. So this must be Queenie. Hesitantly, Credence takes the hot chocolate from her. Her smile widens further, pearly whites exposing themselves to him. She runs her fingers over the books, watching Credence take a sip from the hot chocolate.

“Just as good as last time?” She asks him, voice sweet and loving. He nods curtly. She seems to bounce at that, fingers tapping along the books with her bounce. “Ah, I’m glad you like it, honey.” She hums to herself when he takes another sip.

“I’ll have to bake you something,” She stops, takes a moment to think before her eyes light up again. “You’d like something sweet wouldn’tcha, honey?” Credence blushes but nods anyway. She hums again, brings a finger up to her chin. “Hm…honey…” She trails off, tapping her finger against her chin. She sways lightly while she thinks. The snapping of her fingers startles Credence slightly.

“Cake! Yes!” She bounces on her feet again. “Mister Graves loves my apple cinnamon honey cake.” Credence perks up at the mention of the older man. He hopes that Queenie hasn’t noticed the small blush that heats up his cheeks. Her knowing smile convinces him otherwise.

“I’ll make it early this year. That way you can try it too, honey.”

He nods, allows a small smile to cross his lips. He finishes his hot chocolate and Queenie takes the cup from him.

“I’ll getcha some more, honey.” She says, coat swishing behind her when she turns. Credence grabs at her sleeve lightly before she turns away, clears his throat. She turns back towards him, a small noise of question leaving her throat.

“Thank you, Queenie.” He whispers. She smiles warmly at him again, knows that he means more than thanking her for the cake. She hums as an answer before turning away from him and continuing her mission to get him more chocolate.

Somehow the woman has made him feel better without even saying anything to him. He wonders if somehow she followed an instinct when she saw him or if maybe Tina or Mister Graves had talked to her. He doubts the latter. Queenie seems to just _know_ when something is wrong. She seems to just be able to understand people. He lets another small smile cross his lips. He hopes he’ll see her more often now.

He quietly gasps to himself before beginning to walk towards the front of the store. He hadn’t even _said_ hello to Mister Graves. He has to apologize! Tina greets him with a warm smile when he reaches the counter. Queenie stands next to Tina behind the counter, a hot chocolate in her hand. She places it on the counter and Credence takes it.

“Where is Mister Graves?” He asks before taking a sip from his hot chocolate. The sisters say nothing while Credence drinks down the hot chocolate.

“Hello, Credence.” Rings out from behind him. Credence doesn’t think he’s ever put the delicious drink down so fast. He turns to face the man.

“I’m sorry, Mister Graves.” He says, takes a step towards the man. “I didn’t even say ‘hello’ to you today.” The man waves off the apology. Credence tries again.

“I-I didn’t tell you about the book I read.” He stammers and Mister Graves waves him off again.

“It’s nothing to apologize over, Credence.” The warmth in the man’s voice travels up Credence’s spine. Settles between his ribs and warms his heart. “However, I would like to hear more about this book, if you’re willing.” A proper smile breaks out across his face and he nods.

He tells Mister Graves about Josephine Baker. Twists stories from her life to include details not given to him. He thinks that they don’t damage her story at all, just allows Mister Graves a better picture of what the woman did. Tina tells them when four o’clock rolls around. Credence finishes up the story about the miraculous woman with forty-five minutes before he’s supposed to be home.

When Credence goes to stand up, Graves lightly grabs his elbow. Heat floods his cheeks. Mister Graves is _touching_ him. The thought in itself is dizzying. But Credence keeps his composure the best he can. He only says one thing before he lets Credence go.

“I can’t wait for the next story, Credence.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lawl we've turned into a three part story. I'm sorry that this chapter doesn't contain as much Graves/Credence but I just love Queenie and Tina okay? They would love Credence too, I think. So I wanted to include them. This little story is about Credence and happiness. So it's not always gonna focus 100% on the two - but it should following this chapter.
> 
> [Here's the recipe for the cake that Queenie is talking about](http://www.dinneratthezoo.com/apple-cinnamon-honey-cake/)
> 
> [The bit of information of Josephine Baker has come from the Wikipedia page.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Josephine_Baker) [Althought the book mentioned is a real book.](http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/josephine-jean-claude-baker/1117377720?ean=9780815411727)
> 
>  
> 
> [Come chat with me on tumblr!](https://tmblrsnogoodverybadship.tumblr.com)


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